Hi. My name is Lesley and I’m a recovering mother. It’s been 12 days since I last nagged someone. Ok, it really was yesterday. I just do it by text now that my kids are out of the house.
I used to be that person that glared at kids in a restaurant, was annoyed by their pervasive stickiness, and just generally thought kids were a pain, until I had my own. When my first child was born, I actually felt my heart grow three times its size just like it happened to the Grinch after hearing the Who’s in Whoville singing despite their lack of Christmas presents. Amazingly, it felt just like it was shown in the cartoon. From then on, I could continue to love everyone as I did before, but also have enough room to love each of my children.
Now I make googly faces at kids in carts while waiting in line at stores. I wave at passing cars when kids are looking out the window and being silly. I can see all their adorableness now, when I couldn’t see it before. Thanks to my three little lovelies, Garry, Tommy, and Kay (also known as Gar-Gar, Tom-Tom, and Kay-Kay), I’m reformed.
Long ago, I was an aspiring, capable, independent woman. I still am, but I’ve been covered under baby spit up, gigantic grocery bills, sports equipment, and college concerns for the last couple decades. I got used to peeking out on my own life from behind the mom gook.
With the kids’ bedrooms reclaimed and my parenting reduced to advisory capacity, I have time to reflect. What I’ve learned so far is that the toughest job you’ll ever love is not being a marine. It’s being a parent.